


Wind Beneath My Wings

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Angels, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Post Gauda Prime, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 04:56:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1731965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one in the New Calendar has ever heard of angels. Which makes things very confusing for Avon when he wakes up with wings, and a single thought- to protect Blake. Blake's thoughts run more along the lines of 'naked winged Avon- pretty'.</p><p>(There are deaths, but no graphic details & very little emotional impact from them- they're *probably* canonical, hard to tell from the show-, so I felt 'major character death' would be misleading)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wind Beneath My Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Just remembered I hadn't finished rewriting as fic and posting the remaining good enough B7 role plays that Blakefancier and I did on LiveJournal years ago. I'm not using the co-author link because it would cover up Blakefancier's current fanfic.
> 
> There are possibly 30 more worth the effort- hard to tell, once I reread, I may change my mind. This is one of the shortest ones and it took around 4 hours to fix up- some are HUGE.

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Avon was so astonished by waking up that he was inclined to consider his nudity an unimportant datum. He had, after all, awakened thus many times, either under the auspices of Federation interrogation, or occasionally in more friendly venues. The wings, however, were another thing entirely. He had dreamed of having wings, but never in such detail. He could feel them as living things, part of himself, with the same kinesthetic sense of where they were as he had of his feet and hands. They were very handsome wings, stretching above his head and trailing behind him. The lighting wasn't very good, but he could tell they were silvery white, with glittering black tips. The effect was dramatic, perhaps a little gaudy.

He was still in the tracking gallery, standing over... standing. Still surrounded by troopers, although they were seemingly no longer looking at him- hard to tell with the helmets. It was easy enough to tell that their weapons were aimed at... at the object by his feet.

Avon ran a quick mental checklist. He wasn't drunk. He hasn't been subjected to the usual interrogator's drugs, either. It wasn't a dream; things stayed the same when he glanced away and back, and time seemed to be progressing normally. He might of course be insane, or drugged with an hallucinatory substance.

In no event did it seem a bad idea to behave as if It was real. And he doesn't want the troopers to shoot Blake. It's ridiculous as Avon had rather thoroughly shot Blake himself. But still. Well, as he hadn't a weapon, there was only one thing to do. Avon laid down on top of Blake, spreading his glorious wings over them both.

Blake said, softly, "You have wings. Am I dreaming?"

"You're alive. Am I?" Avon ignored the gunfire at his back. He could feel impacts, but there was no pain. Whatever happened, it wasn't affecting Blake, so Avon's instinct had been correct.

"I don't think so." 

Well, it wasn't as if Avon needed independent confirmation. There was the sound of boots moving about the tracking gallery, and then single blaster shots. Avon held his wings stiffly, trying to muffle the sounds of murder. There was nothing he could do. He argued to himself that his crew had probably already been dead, and the troopers were simply being thorough. He couldn't shield more than one person. He waited until the order to fan out and search for other rebels was given, and a little while longer, to make sure they'd all obeyed.

He looked up, cautiously. "They've gone." He got up and quickly checked the other bodies. They were all most definitely dead, beyond any hope of resuscitation even if Avon still had _Liberator's_ medical unit. He returned to Blake and picked him up. Either Blake had lost a lot of weight, or Avon had gained a lot of strength. Blake certainly didn't look as if he'd been wasting away. "Time for us to follow their example."

Blake's head lolled. He looked dazed, but unafraid. "What happened to you? What _are_ you?" 

"No idea. It'll make a fascinating discussion, later. Much later." Avon looked around. "Is there a secret way out? Preferably one with medical equipment."

"Two levels down, there's a ship. N-no one could get in but me."

Avon nodded. "Guide me." He glanced around as he walked out of the tracking gallery. "Is there a self-destruct for the base?"

"Yes. I could set it off from the ship." Blake closed his eyes. "Am I dying?"

Avon would like to say 'no, of course not', but he's never been much good at lying. And he did shoot Blake. Three times. Point blank. He's operating on the principle that you don't give up, no matter how hopeless the situation, but he honestly can't imagine Blake surviving. Then again, he hadn't planned on growing feathers, so who's to say what's impossible? "I don't know. When we get to your ship, I'll look at you. There will be medical equipment?"

"Y-yes." Blake opened his eyes slightly. "T-turn right at the corner, then another right." His voice was perceptibly weaker.

"Good." Avon followed Blake's instructions, moving as fast as he dared. "Stay awake." 

"It's hard. I'm so tired, Avon. Just wanna sleep." Blake's eyes slid shut again.

"Once we get to the ship, you can sleep." Avon's wings moved restessly, and a feather caressed Blake's forehead.

Blake sighed. "All right. Your wings are soft," he added.

"Are they? Stay awake and I'll let you use them for a feather bed, if you like."

"I've never been in a feather bed before. Mmm, must be nice."

"Neither have I. It will be a new concept for both of us." Avon reached the end of the corridor. "Dead end... or is it? Blake?"

Blake's hand twitched. "Touch the wall."

Avon lifted Blake's hand and pressed it against the wall, which opened, revealing a small hangar with a clam-shell roof to let the ship out.

"Can I pass out now?"

Avon walked inside. The corridor resealed behind them with a soft 'husssh' of pneumatics- archaic, but difficult to detect using modern sensors. "Yes." He strode rapidly towards the ship and tried not to worry when Blake went limp. He used Blake's palmprint again at the ship to open the hatch. He headed for the area where a medical unit was normally kept on this type of ship.

Avon laid Blake down on a diagnostic slab and turned on the machinery, quickly sticking reader probes to Blake's forehead, throat and chest. At the touch, Blake made a soft whimper of protest.

"It's all right, Blake. I'm here." Avon stroked Blake's cheek lightly which seemed to calm Blake, so he continued touching Blake and talking softly while he cut away Blake's clothes to reveal a surprise that shouldn't have been a surprise, if he'd been thinking logically. "Well." Avon touched the burnt out personal protector generator belt strapped around Blake's bloodied torso. "Good idea. But you were cheated on this one. It only stopped the first two, it seems."

Blake's eyes fluttered open. "A-Avon? Hurts."

"I'll get you an analgesic. Or would you rather have a sedative and sleep?"

"Yes." Avon could see Blake's throat move as he swallowed convulsively, probably fighting off pain-induced nausea. "Wait until after we escape."

Avon nodded. "Do I need you to operate the ship? How do I set the self-destruct?"

Blake muttered, "If I sleep, you might leave." His eyes were bleary, but Avon recognized the look of determination.

"Not if I can help it." He touched Blake's face again. "I give you my word. I will stay with you."

"All right." Blake sighed. "The code for the self-destruct is 'Avon.' Just tell the computer on the flight deck- 'Avon's gadget works'."

Avon couldn't help smiling. "I'll take that as flattery. I'm getting a mild pain-killer for you now now. It shouldn't make you sleep, but don't be alarmed if you do. I've got everything under control." It was a good thing Blake wasn't up to his usual standards, or he'd see right through the lie. No, actually, it wasn't a good thing. But it was what it was.

"I hope you're real," Blake whispered.

"So do I." Avon gave Blake the hypo, and made sure the restraint field was on at a minimal setting, just enough to protect Blake during liftoff. "I'm going to the flight deck. I'll be back as soon as I get us away."

"Yes." Blake closed his eyes.

Avon confirmed that the diagnostic machinery was of the opinion that Blake would survive, and treatment could be delayed for a short while with no harm. Then he went to the flight deck. The roof opened, and he triggered the self-destruct to cover their launch, and hopefully kill a few troopers. At the very least, the destruction would give his crew a decent burial, and prevent the Federation from gloating over their corpses publicly.

Blake's ship automatically gave a code the blockading ships recognized and they left the Gauda system without confrontation. Away was a good enough destination for now. He checked that the random course wasn't likely to intersect any hazards or traffic routes, locked the autopilot and warning alarms on, and then returned to Blake. His wings were a bit of a nuisance on the flight deck, but at least they were flexible enough to keep tightly at his sides when he remembered to control them.

Blake's eyes were open when Avon entered the room. He said, "You make me feel warm."

"Do I? I hope that's a good sign." His wings seemed to want to spread over Blake and he had to keep resisting the impulse.

Blake's fingers twitched. 

"Is the pain bad?"

"Yes." Blake's hand moved towards Avon again. "Touch me?"

Avon couldn't resist the naked appeal in Blake's voice. What was the point of resisting, anyway? He cupped Blake's face with his hands, and his wings curved around Blake closely, caressing him from shoulder on down. "Ah, Blake. You will recover. It will be all right." Avon continued stroking Blake with his wings even as he applied healing pads to Blake's wound. It seemed to relax Blake, and it wasn't as if Avon wasn't enjoying it, too.

"Don't leave me."

"No, I won't. Let me finish the treatment and then I'll take you to your cabin."

Blake nodded and leaned into Avon's wing. Fortunately the projectile had gone straight through and by some miracle missed all vital areas. Avon finished with the healing pads, and then scooped Blake up into his arms. "I believe that I had promised you a feather bed."

"Yes." Blake smiled. "You're strong for a figment of my imagination."

"You could have imagined me some clothes while you were about it." Avon left the medical unit and turned towards the captain's cabin.

"Why would I do that?"

Avon raised his eyebrows. "I wonder what else you've imagined." He walked as smoothly as possible, keeping his wings pulled in enough to avoid brushing the corridor walls.

"Wouldn't you like to know. I certainly didn't imagine you with wings."

"Neither did I." Avon dismissed the idea that he was a figment of Blake's imagination. Blake never had that much imagination. But the troopers didn't see him, so he wasn't altogether 'real', either. Transdimensional crossover from another reality wherein humans have wings? Of course, that wouldn't explain... well, go with a reality in which invisibility is an automatic defense mechanism. Avon has no idea how that any of that would work, but it's more likely than this whole thing being dying delirium. Avon's dreams tend to be depressing at the best of times, and this day could not conceivably be counted amongst them. 

"They're beautiful. You're beautiful."

"You're medicated. You don't mean to say that." Blake's obviously forgiven him without pausing to blame him. Avon would never understand the man.

"I do mean it. Beautiful, Avon."

"Ah, Blake. Your timing is impeccable as ever." Avon entered Blake's cabin.

"I want to feel your wings all over me."

"I promised, didn't I?" Avon put Blake down on the bed, and got in with him. He had wondered if lying on the wings would be uncomfortable, but the musculature was more flexible than he'd thought. The wings curved easily around as he settled Blake onto his chest, covering them both. "How is that?"

"Perfect." Blake kissed Avon's chest.

Avon sighed and stroked Blake's back. He said softly, "I shot you. I ruined your base. Why don't you hate me?"

"How could I hate you? I love you."

Avon closed his eyes tightly. "I'm not even human any longer. If I ever was."

"Of course you're human. You just have wings." Blake licked his chest.

"I think there's more to it than that... Blake... be careful. I don't... don't know what I'm capable of."

"If I die, maybe I'll get wings, too."

Avon shivered all over. "I don't recommend it. It's not an experiment you could repeat if it doesn't work."

"You won't let anything bad happen to me, Avon. I trust you."

"Don't die. I can't... I won't watch that again, Blake." Avon's wings tightened around Blake.

Blake stroked Avon's face, then kissed his mouth. "Touch me."

"I'm afraid. What if...I don't..." If this was a dream, it would end like all his dreams of Blake, with him awakening, alone and furious at himself for allowing sentiment to mislead him.

"Kiss me. Please, Avon, kiss me."

Even if it was a dream, he couldn't refuse Blake. He never had been able to do that."Yes." He kissed Blake, trying for once to express his affection, not just his sexuality.

Blake moaned softly and returned the kiss enthusiastically.

It was so good, Avon felt moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes. He closed them tightly and continued the kiss, trying not to think, not to remember Blake lying at his feet. He pulled back slightly. "Are you all right? I don't want to hurt you."

"I feel good when I'm with you."

"What about your wounds? The healing pads can only do so much."

"We'll go slowly." 

"All right." Blake certainly seemed strong enough. Avon's hands wandered down. And interested enough.

Blake moaned softly and slid his fingers through Avon's feathers. "I've loved you for years."

"You should have said." Avon stroked Blake's interest, testing for determination.

Blake closed his eyes. "I thought you hated me."

"Never. You frightened me." Avon tightened his grip and began experimenting.

Blake gasped and thrust his hips. "W-why?"

Avon laughed softly. "Because I knew you would get me killed."

"No chance of that anymore." Blake looked sadly at Avon.

"Never mind. It doesn't matter any longer." Avon wasn't sure exactly when it happened, but he was accepted that he was... no longer alive. Alternate dimensions, selective invisibility... no. Whatever he was, he wasn't explicable by any science Avon knew.

"Stay with me. Forever. Promise?"

"Yes, I promise." Avon kissed Blake again. Why not? If dying wasn't enough to drive Avon away, what else would do the trick?

"Good." Blake sighed and rubbed against Avon. "Bring me off?"

"Yes. Be noisy, Blake. I want to hear you enjoy it." He redoubled his efforts, using both hands, and some clever wing work. Natural feathers had been too expensive for erotic play on Earth. Avon discovered that had been a sad pity.

Blake moaned, clutching Avon and thrusting against him. "So good, oooh, Avon, so good!"

"Yes, Blake... go on, Roj." Avon felt warm and protective. He wanted Blake to be happy, but he didn't want to drag this out to the point of taxing Blake's strength, so he cheated by tickling the slit of Blake's cock with his feathers.

Blake cried out softly as he came. After a moment, he muttered, "'s good."

"Sleep now." Avon's wings settled soft on Blake, keeping him warm. Keeping him safe. Keeping him loved.

"Mmm." Blake closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Avon didn't feel tired. He suspected that he could no longer sleep. Well, it had always been a waste of time. He wondered if he could eat or drink... or have sex. Mmm... well, there would be time to experiment later. Once Blake recovered. For now, Blake was safe within his wings, that's all that matters.

Blake sneezed without waking, as a feather tickled his nose. Avon chuckled and moved his wings slightly away. He wondered if he could convince Blake to leave the rebellion. Everyone would think he was dead. Everyone would think they were both dead. Surely, Blake wouldn't insist on them developing a legend... oh... hell... Avon sighed and stroked Blake's hair.

Blake smiled in his sleep.


End file.
